


Cold Sweet

by ladygrange



Category: Led Zeppelin
Genre: ....anyway, Beards (Facial Hair), Dirty Talk, F/M, Oral Sex, Outdoor Sex, but bring me that bearded face and i think i'd do just fine, extensions of my observations and perceptions, i don't much go for peaches, more and more these become dialogues with my inner life, some deep involvement with little acts of care and tenderness, which i find most audible in hands and touch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-19
Updated: 2019-07-19
Packaged: 2020-07-08 21:48:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19876615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladygrange/pseuds/ladygrange
Summary: many peaches and much love. enjoy!





	Cold Sweet

_ Macon, Georgia - 1971 _

“Darling, come down from there.”

“Just a minute,” she calls from her perch.

She had a devil of a time getting up here in the first place, she’s determined to get what they came for.

“They’re just peaches,” Jimmy returns. 

She flashes a grin, though he can’t see it through the dense leaves. Her smile shows in her voice. 

“Do remember, Jimmy,” she reaches for a promising peach. “We intended to get lost. This was your idea.”

“Clearly I was addled,” he says drily.

She plucks two more, testing the velvet skin for ripeness with her thumb. It leaves a soft impression in the fruit. She deposits it carefully in her skirt - gathered in her fist as a makeshift basket.

“We drove down here for a reason and -” 

She swipes her forehead of sweat, the distance shimmers and distorts with heat as she makes her way up to another branch. 

“And what?” he prompts.

“We have two days before Nashville and I’m not spending them in a hotel when we could be here.”

“In an orchard,” Jimmy finishes.

The fuzz of a particularly ripe peach sends a sweet smell to her nose, it’s color dark and inviting. She decides her skirt is full enough and rests for a minute at the top. 

“Yes, Jimmy,” she says. “You get more observant by the day.”

“Being funny won’t save you from falling, my darling,” his voice lilts with humor. 

She hums and takes in her view. Tongue and groove houses sit abandoned, their tin roofs rusting in places, glittering sharp in others. Big pines with their limbs resembling fingers thrust upward grow close by. Their tops green lace cut against the sky, fluttering in the soft breeze. 

Cast out in most directions, corn grows dense and level, so solid she imagines stepping onto it, walking out to the distance. Massive sprinklers line the fields and march to the horizon like a line of ants. They’d been lucky to happen upon this roadside, she’s sure of that.

“You’re awfully quiet up there, darling.” Jimmy pulls her from her head.

“What would you do if I said I couldn’t get down?” she teases. 

“Well, seeing as we’re in the middle of nowhere,” his tone is wry. “I’d have to call you a liar.”

She works her way down the tree in increments. Caution in each step, fist still tight on her skirt, hair coming loose around her shoulders and catching in the leaves. 

“That is _ not  _ a very nice thing to say to the woman bringing you such gifts.” 

She’s clearing the final rim of branches, one final, short leap to the grass. Strong hands clasp her waist and she grins over her shoulder. 

“Impatient man.”

Jimmy brings her she small distance to the ground and she turns to meet him. With her clothes in disarray, hair scattered with green pieces, legs exposed, she feels decidedly perverse. Jimmy lingers on her waist, eyes bright beneath the sloping brim of his fishing hat. Unmistakable desire in his gaze. She clears her throat.

“You would’ve been much better at this, by the way. All that leg would’ve come in handy.”

“Yes, you mentioned that in the car, then you argued that I’d have no place to put them.” Jimmy reaches between them for a peach, turning it in the light. 

“And I’m right about that, too,” she says, taking the peach from him and gesturing to the blanket laid out under the shade.

“I was going to eat that, darling,” Jimmy protests mildly, folding himself before her.

She takes a knife from the canvas bag holding down one corner of the blanket then hands him a jug of water.

“Drink something first,” she says. “And take your shoes off.”

He removes his dusty white trainers. “Bossy today, darling.”

“Socks, too.”

Victory is sweet. Stretched out under the branches with a pile of peaches. Jimmy in his bell bottoms, brown shirt ruched up to reveal his belly button, hair sticking to his neck in black rivulets. She peels the skin to a satisfying spiral, pares each wedge, and hands one off to Jimmy. She grins at the way he licks the juice from his fingers and offers another wedge.

“Good?”

Jimmy nods, munching happily. “Very, darling.”

“You know I believe peaches hail from China,” she says, picking another from the pile.

“Really?”

“Uh huh,” she cuts a slice for him and takes a bite for herself. “They’re also the source of amaretto, the pit of the fruit.”

He sucks the juice off his thumb. “A little bitter, isn’t that the translation, darling?”

“Yes, exactly.”

She traces the delicate embroidery of the sunflower at his sternum and delivers a small kiss to his chin. His beard is soft on her mouth. 

“Are you excited about Japan?”

Jimmy’s eyes light up, and he pulls her to the front of his body. 

“Did I tell you about the meeting planned with Mayor Yamada? We’re to visit the war memorial and have a press conference with him. The land is beautiful, of course. I’d like to experiment with some instruments. Maybe fiddle around with a shamisen.”

Her lips climb the expanse of his neck - from collar to the bottom of his beard. 

“And don’t forget your camera,” she says.

Jimmy catches her gaze, eyes crinkling. “We’ve got video recorders as well.”

“How could I forget,” she returns his smile. “Pray it won’t be as hot over there.”

He hums, hands roaming slow over her back, her legs draped over his sides.

“This weather makes me feel slow.”

She rubs her nose in the dark hair at his cheek and presses a kiss to his ear. 

“Bad slow?”

Jimmy shakes his head, his hat falls to the blanket below. 

“Good slow, sort of liquid.” His fingers trail over her arms and play in the ends of her hair. “Hand me another peach, darling?”

She reaches beside them for a dripping slice and offers it to his open mouth. Dappled light plays over his forehead and eyes, makes his lips redder. She feeds him another, fingertips brushing his soft, damp lips. Jimmy breathes harder beneath her, eyes lidded and hazy. She wants his mouth.

And she gets it. A glancing kiss at first. One to her eyelid, beard grazing and ticklish on her hot skin. Then the very tip of her nose, a brush on her lips. Jimmy clasps the back of her head and opens her mouth in a savoring sort of way. Lapping the inside, trading the sweet taste of fruit. She searches him in turn, rocking her hips lazily against his body, and earns a low hum from his throat - satisfied, almost purring. 

“Jimmy,” her voice is slow and thick. She hides her face in his neck and tastes the salty skin there. Feels him hard between their bodies. “Want you.”

“Yes, yes,” he breathes, petting her hair, arching to her touch. 

She scores his pale throat with kisses and slides down to the button of his blue jeans. Jimmy makes a broken sound when she kisses the tip of his cock.

“So silky,” she whispers, almost to herself. One hand cups his length for her hungry mouth. 

The head is suffused with enough blood to make it dark red, tip welling. She kisses just under the flared tip, follows a vein pulsing along the length. Makes long, loving licks from top to bottom. Jimmy’s hips twist and jerk into her mouth. 

He says her name in a gritted way that tells him he’s almost there. She suckles the tip once more, the saltiness of him mingling with peach. It makes her ache to think of him so hard for her. Jimmy tugs at her hair and pops free with a wet, obscene noise. 

“Hang on, hang on,” she murmurs. “Let me finish.”

Jimmy presses her to her back, crouched on all fours above her, chest rising fast. She squeezes her legs together at the throb that pulses and flows out to make her weak and wanting. 

“You didn’t let me finish,” she whispers.

Jimmy strips his shirt off and shucks his trousers. 

“So bloody hot,” he says.

She instinctively parts her thighs for him when he rests on top of her and shakes her head.

“It isn’t really, it’s all the humidity.”

Jimmy unbuttons her top and parts the fabric to expose her breasts. His eyes are very green as they meet hers. 

“Exactly, darling.” He kisses both nipples, leaving them wet. “Feels like I’m about to melt.”

“Don’t -” she gasps as he blows a cool steam of air over her nipples, making then taught and hard. He suckles and flicks his tongue over one aching nipple. She works his name from her mouth. “Don’t melt just yet.”

His mouth is startlingly cold on her fevered skin. She closes her eyes, insides cast vivid from the sun, and slips into her pleasure as though it were fashioned only for her. Between the long fingers plucking one aching nipple and his mouth savoring the other, she barely escapes her skirt and underwear. Once free, Jimmy sucks a red mark on the slope of her breast and kisses down her writhing torso. 

Her mouth is open and noisy, knees drawn up to her chest, hands sunk into his thick hair as he kisses her wetness. First his thumbs brush over the swollen lips, then he drags his mouth over the seam, never parting her, only to tease. 

Her brows drawn, she raises her head to see his tongue burrow and slip against her clit. She forms her hands to the back of his head and rocks into his mouth. 

With three fingers fucking her, Jimmy looks up. “Come, right now, my darling.”

“Not yet,” she manages, neck weak and muscles clamping wetly around his fingers. “Want  _ you _ .”

His lips kick into a smile, his words buried into her sex. “Want you, too.”

She whimpers his name - a plea - though he takes her between his lips anyway and sucks at her engorged clit. In the glowing instant, she pants and breaks against him.

His mouth is hot and considerably more slick when he crawls up to kiss her. She tastes herself, him, an undertone of peaches. Jimmy smooths her hair back from her flushed face. The blunt tip of his cock nudges her opening. 

“So wet,” he says, throaty and hushed.

“That’s for you,” she says, legs curling high around his waist, taking him deep.

“It’s good,” he says, working himself inside her. Drawing back, plunging a bit more. She desperately wants him faster. And doesn’t realize she’s spoken until Jimmy breathes a pained laugh in her ear. “I want you to come again, my darling.”

She tosses her head in denial. “Please...”

He’s slippery and slow in his movements, pressing her down to the blanket, catching her clit with each thrust. Jimmy takes her face in both hands.

“Hush,” he says softly. “Look at me, darling.”

She does, heart tumbling at the way he watches her. 

“You get so wet, my sweet darling, when you’re about to come around me.” Jimmy brushes a kiss to her nose and rocks his hips; the fullness is sweet and piercing. “Did you know that?”

She whimpers and clutches him inside. He makes a sympathetic noise and does it again. His thumb rubs the outside corner of her eye.

“Wetter than when you’re in my mouth,” he says. The ends of his hair gather between them, sweat shivering at the tips with his every move. “And so tight.”

“Please,” she sobs.

Jimmy only barely thrusts, kissing the smooth knot in her depths. He nuzzles his face into the side of her neck and sighs. 

“Come.”

A soft, nearly soundless command. Her cries hang in the thick air, dissolve with the rising thrum of crickets, catch in his dark beard, go into his mouth when he kisses her. Jimmy takes them with an answering groan. Orgasm arrives loud and ready and gulping. Her hands form to the jut of his shoulder blades. Body smeared to his. 

His final, quick thrusts are slick from his come. It’s good and dizzying, and good and she can’t catch a deep breath.

Something cool touches her lips and flows into her mouth. She starts taking the water greedily, some of it streaming over her cheeks. 

“There you are,” Jimmy’s voice is relieved above her. “Not too fast, darling.”

He takes the water away and appears in her vision - she turns her head on his thigh, fuzzy and weak limbed. Jimmy strokes her cheek.

“I passed out?” she aks.

“Only for a second,” Jimmy gives her more water. “No, don’t try and sit up. Rest for a bit.”

“Want you,” she mumbles again, gratified when Jimmy lays beside her. 

His fingers curl loosely against her spine and skim each vertebrae. The air smells heavy, the shade deepening and suddenly cooler.

“Will it rain?” she wonders aloud.

“Possibly, though I don’t see any clouds. Feels different though, weirdly sunny.”

“Weird,” she says, turning into his side. 

Jimmy kisses the top of her head. The shower breaks out of nowhere, rain so thick it nearly obscures the corn fields. The few drops that strike her are cool and soothing. 

“Feeling better, darling?”

She rests her chin on his chest and smiles. 

“A little hungry, actually. Hand me a peach.”

**Author's Note:**

> okay, so zeppelin did play in macon in 1970, but alas there was a tragic lack of beard. as i'm neurotic about details in these pieces, i made it later on when they didn't even go near georgia. enter my creative license. hope you enjoyed and thank you for reading <33


End file.
